Son of the Balrog Lord
by Demonelf
Summary: 41 years after the Lord of the Rings, a disturbing dream comes to many in Middle Earth. King Aragorn calls a council to figure out what it is about. Yet this is only the begining for Feanar and his fellows. Discontinued
1. Chapter One

**Chapter One: Rise of the Enemy**

The sky darkened as the sun set and odd clouds drifted in from the East. A quiver of power swept through the air and deep caverns that dotted the scorched land. Near the inactive volcano, a glint of flame shone through one of the caverns. A dark figure swelled inside the light. Out of the cavern leapt a great beast, it's bat-like wings catching the wind. Racing towards the mountain it left a trail of ash in its wake. It landed gracefully and slowly on the mountain top. It tuned its hideous head to the West and bellowed. The mountain erupted in a burst of smoke and lava, feeding the creature. It was a kin of Balrogs, made of fire and darkness. It roared again, this time as a challenge to those whom would try to defeat it. A hundred leagues away an elf sat bolt upright, coming out of his daze.

Feanar glanced around, breathing heavily. Willows dripped over him and his two companions were motionless, gazing into space. One had his eyes closed. A stream ran by, singing a tune that only the oldest Eldar could understand. The sky was a velvet black and was dotted with stars. The moon had already gone over the horizon, ever in its chase after the sun.  
Feanar put his head on his arms, which were perched on his knees. A flash of the dream came back to him, causing him to jump in alarm. The elf to his right shifted and blinked.

"Are you sitting on an ant hill or are you full of energy?" The elf muttered angrily Feanar stared at his friend. The gray eyes of his companion glared back. Feanar shook his head and leaned back onto the tree trunk.

"Nay, just a bad dream." Feanar's eyes followed a leaf caught in the streams flow. A strand of his raven black hair blew into his face. Feanar brushed it out of the way. He looked back at his blond haired friend. "Don't worry about me, Celgalad." Now the deep blue eyes of Feanar flicked over to the third elf. "Sleeps like a log, doesn't he?" Celgalad snorted in laughter.

"That is Elgorn for you, as always. You could have a war around him and he wouldn't twitch." Celgalad blew in the sleeping elf's ear. The reaction he got was a hand in his face.

"For your information, I am awake. You could wake the dead with the noise you make, Celgalad." He lifted his head. The short blond hair fell in a simple elegance that caught many elf-maidns eyes. The eyes of willow green were giving a death glare to Celgalad. "What was your dream about Feanar?" Elgorn asked, his voice still filled with disgust. Feanar shivered.

"Dark was the sky and the land was cracked. A great mountain rose from a plain. From the ground leapt a horrible beast. It looked like the Balrog that Legolas had told us about, yet seemed much larger. It flew to the mountain and roared twice. The second time the mountain erupted. That is when I woke up." Feanar looked at his friends. "The land seems to be that of Mordor." He returned his gaze to the stream. "Legoals should be told of this…"

"Ah … why bother your father about a silly dream." Celgalad said, leaning back on the tree.

"Fool, Legolas should know of anything as extreme as that. "Elgorn said calmly. He placed a calming hand of Feanar's shoulder. Feanar looked at Elgorn, then leapt up.

"I just remembered, we are expected at Rhunargando by dawn." He picked up the deep blue bow that had been at his side. Elgorn and Celgalad each picked up a long knife that had been at their sides for months. Celgalad looked longingly at Feanar's blue bow.

"One of these days I am going to get a bow like Lhunluva. Or steal Lhunluva form you." Elgorn snorted.

"I know that you will never get one."

"I bet I will this time!"

"You say that every time."

"You have luck yourself, Celgalad," Feanar broke up their fighting, "you have that beautiful knife. I want one like yours. I need it, because, if you remember, mine snapped in the last battle with yrch." Feanar turned to the North and started off down the game trail that led past the elves. Over his shoulder he yelled: "Coming?" Elgorn and Celgalad quickly chased after the raven haired elf.

**  
**


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two: Of Dwain

Flames from the torch bounced off the many different colors in the caves. Silvers, gold, greens, rubies, and crystal all danced with the light. Dwain had lived with this his whole life yet it still fascinated him. The people of Rohan called this place Dwarf's Deep, though it's origainal name had been Helm's deep. King Eomer of Rohan had given the battle ground to Gimli for his people to live and cherish the caves there. Dwain had been one that had been birthed there.  


His father was none other than Gimli, elf-friend. Dwain had met this elf once. Legolas had surprised Dwain with his down to earthness and his nature. He was most unlike how the elves had been described. When Dwain had asked his father about it after Legolas left, Gimli told his son that Legolas was more of a warior elf, not like Galadriel, who was distant from the earth. Legolas also had a son. Feanar had confused Dwain more than his father. Feanar had a love for the caves quite like his own, and a strange love for weapons that was matched only by Dwain. He and Dwain were the same age, yet were different in appearance as apple and oranges. Dwain had rose red hair and green eyes. He was short, as was normal for a dwarf. Feanar on the other hand, was tall for an elf his age, which was about seventeen at the time, had raven black hair, and deep blue eyes that seemed to hold understanding that outstreched his years. Despite these diffrences, Dwain and Feanar had become great friends.  


Dwain dragged his mind off of Feanar, making his mind stay on the task at hand. He pulled the door to the main chamber open, and entered. Many colors clashed and calmed one another on the walls and roof. And there amongst it all was his father. The eyes of which many orcs had seen last in their lives flicked upwards when the door slamed shut behind Dwain. He took in sight of his son, then carefully placed his work on the table in front of him. Gimli got to his feet.  


"Dwain, gald you came." Gimli placed his hands on the younger dwarfs sholders. "How are things?"  


"The dwarves in the back cavern hit a large strech of iorn." Dwain began but Gimli cut him off with a wave of his hand.  


"This is not the reason for my calling you, a report." Gimli turned from his son. When he spoke again, his voice was full of worry and curiosity. "The Lord Elessar is calling for a meeting in Minas Tirith. I wish for you to come with me to represent the dwarves of the south caverns." He took a few steps forward, then turned and looked hard at his son. "Bring your closest friend, for I feel the jouney will not end at the white city. Be ready at dawn."

Dwain could hardly believe what was happening. Here he was, at dawn, his father ahead of him, his best friend Oin on his left, setting out for a city he had only heard of in stories. He had traveled no farther then Edoras, whereas Oin had not even traveled past the walls of the Deep. Dwain's thoughts were interrupted when Gimli turned to him and Oin.

"Here we go, to Edoras, and beyond, Minas Tirith. It will be good to see old friends, right?" Gimli said very fast. Dwain nodded. Feanar was sure to be where his father was on a thing this important. They started off down the long ramp.  
"Why me?" Oin said aside to Dwain. "Why did you choose me to go with you?" Dwain studied the cliff side, trying to come up with a reason.  
"Well, you are my greatest friend, and the best fighter." Dwain said, "I have no clue what we will meet."


	3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three: Family Of Feanar

Feanar, Celgalad, and Elgorn walked into a large clearing of the forest. A waterfall fell on the far side of the clearing. Beside the fall was a brilliant looking iron gate. It glinted a light gray in the light, its outside wall decorated with leafs. Rhunangando was its name, dwelling place of the elves of Ithilien. It's one purpose was to keep watch on the crossroad of Gondor. Feanar, Elgorn and, Celgalad approached the wall.  


"Will you do the honors?" Celgalad did a stupid looking motion towards the bell on top of the gate. Feanar scowled at Celgalad and lifted Lhunluva. Placing an arrow to the string, he called to the guard beside the bell.

"Feanar, son of Legolas, requests entrance to Rhunangando!" Feanar let the arrow fly. It hit the bell with a reverberating gong. A moment later, a silver rope came down over the side of the gate. Feanar grabbed it and started to climb.  


When all three elves were on the gate, Feanar turned to the guard, Elford. Elford's golden armor glinted in the rising sun. He saluted Feanar and Feanar retuned this welcome with a nod.  


"You are just in time to calm your father down again." Elford said, "He is in the mood to travel, and I heard that you are the one whom calms him."  


"Sometimes I do … yet at times I wish to go with him and it is Gilraen who calms us both." A shout came from the grounds on the inside of the gate.  


"What was that?" Elgorn asked, raising an eyebrow. Celgalad and Elford both shook their heads, but Feanar smiled.  


"Legolas." He said simply. Seconds later, two elves entered the guard tower. One was tall and blond, with deep blue eyes. He was Legolas, Feanar's father. The other was shorter then all the elves in the room at the time, with raven black hair and green eyes. This elf was Feanar's twin sister Gilraen. They were arguing in the elfish language of Quenya.  


"They only just got back, they need time to see their families…" Gilraen said  


"How many times have we got to go over this, their families moved back to Greenwood, but they stayed." Legolas interrupted.  


"They need time to rest…"  


"Aragorn will not wait for a long time. He was never one to wait on anyone. He will start without us."  


"What will Lord Aragorn not wait to start?" Feanar asked, changing the language to that of Sindarian so his friends could understand. Elgorn and Celgalad's confusion cleared up right away.  


"He has called a meeting at the White City. He wants us there within the week." Legolas replied. His face was full of concern and worry about an unknown thing. "I want all three of you to come. You two…" He turned to Celgalad and Elgorn. "You need not to come if you don't want." Gilraen let out a noise that resembled an angry orc. "Look, daughter, I need your brother to be there."  


"I would go anyway, Gilraen." Feanar said to his sister. "I feel a need to get out of the confined areas still."  


"There is no way I am going to be left behind, not on a thing this important." Elgorn said.  


"Nothing like four elves tracking though the fields together!" Celgalad exclaimed.  


"OK… OK … you are all going. I shall have food sent up to your rooms to refill your restless packs. I still wish that one of you would stay, I want to go once." This comment caused all to laugh. As the young elves started out, Legolas stayed behind.  


"Please don't tell this to anyone, Elford." Elford saluted.  


By nightfall, the four elves were on the path leading to the crossroads. A full moon rose into clouds that came over the mountain range between Ithilien and Mordor. Feanar glanced uneasily at the clouds. Legolas noticed Feanar staring at the clouds. He glanced at them too.  


"You noticed them as well, I see." Legolas said quietly.  


"It looks more like smoke then clouds." Feanar commented.  


"True."  


"Just like my dream…" Legolas's eyes flicked to his son, and stared hard.  


"What dream?" His voice was a forced calm, but the younger elves could all hear the sharpness of worry and caution. Feanar told him in detail about the Balrog. Silence fell for a second, then Legolas said, with his voice naught a whisper, "You are not the only one to have seen this dream." Feanar, Elgorn, and Celgalad all looked at Legolas in alarm. The young face was lined with worry and the eyes that usually held laughter in them were distant, and dark. "That is the reason Aragorn is calling this council. Arwen, Aragorn and their son all saw it, along with many from Rohan and the North. The thing that disturbs me the most is that it seems those of high blood are the only ones to see it." Legolas quickened his pace.  


"We must be at Minas Tirith now. Run, run!" 


	4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four: Council of Elessar

Three days passed since Aragorn called the council. All whom would atend were there at the City of Guard. The third day found all in the stone hall. Three dwarves, five elves, and many men had gather here. Feanar sat in the chair the farthest right. To his left sat Celgalad, then Elgorn, Legolas, Gimli, Dwain, and a dwarf he didn't previously know, Oin. To Oin's right sat a tall man with straw colored hair. His name was Faramir, Steward of Gondor. Next to Faramir was his wife, and sister to the king of Rohan, Eowyn. Their son sat beside his mother. Boromir was his name, named after his uncle. Boromir had more of the color burgandy hair then staw, and his face bore a gotee. His hair was past his ears in length and was tied in a tail in the back. Standing in the middle was Aragorn, or, in the name of his people, King Elessar. On his left side was Arwen, the elven queen. Their half-blood son, Aeglos, followed his father's looks. Sharp grey eyes, black hair, and a certain scruffiness that only many days on a trail could show. Beyond Aeglos were many men that Feanar didn't know. 

Feanar scanned the faces of the people he knew the name of. Gimli was talking to Legolas in swift dwarvish(Legolas is the only one not of dwarven blood to know the dwarven language). Dwain gave Feanar a wink. Oin shifted uncomfortably under Feanar's gaze and was unable to meet it. Faramir and Eowyn nodded in respect, a nod that Feanar retuned. As Feanar turned his gaze to Boromir, they seemed to lock. They both tried to make the other look away yet nether of them acomplished their task. Feanar nodded in respect to Boromir as well, a nod that he was glad to get in return. Aeglos's eyes were so calm and cold that Feanar's flame filled ones slid past them, knowing that he could trust Aeglos. Feanar then looked at Arwen. He lost himself in her eyes, eyes so full of wisdom, years and knowlage. They were so young yet so old. Feanar was hard put to keep her serching gaze. It felt as if he was being looked through. Yet as he watched, the eyes softened and were kinder. She gave Feanar a small smile that surprised him. That moment Aragorn stode forward.

"Glad that you all got here as fast as you did." Aragorn started. "Let's get right to the reason that I called you. My son, Arwen and I all had a disterbing dream. The eagles report that many from the north also had this dream. Whom here has had a dream of a Balrog in Mordor?" Feanar stood, thinking he would be the only one. He was startled to see Boromir standing as well. Aragorn looked woried. "Only two of you?" Legolas shook his head.

"Many from Ithilien that were resting saw this dream. Yet they all were of high blood." Legoals explained, "None of the dwarves saw it, am I right Gimli?"

"Aye. I heard about no such dreams. Gimli confirmed.

"Faramir, you saw a dream last time an enemy rose. Yet you didn't this time?" Aragorn asked.

"The thing is, I was not asleep. Boromir and I were on a hunt, and it was my turn to keep watch." Faramir said. "It was odd, I saw Boromir right when he was having that dream. He was having a fit or something. Moaning and figiting. Then he woke, panting like he had run, and pale like he had seen the dead."

"Do you think this was real? Do you think there is actualy a Balrog in Mordor now?" Feanar asked. Aragorn looked at the young elf, then answered gravley.

"I do. All of you have seen the smoke, I believe, and a dream as disturbling as this one could not be so wide spread. But we need to make sure. The reason for this meeting is to gather people to go to Mordor willingly." From the men on the left side came many outcrys.

"You mean to send some of us, or our sons, into that hell hole?" One man cried. Feanar stood and stode forward.

"Did you not hear? He said those willing. My lord Aragorn, I will go." Legolas and Aragorn both showd signs of aproval. Elgorn and Celgalad wasted no time backing Feanar up. Boromir got to his feet.

"Orcs still roam the land. Though I do not doubt your skill in battle, I will feel better if you alow me to come." Boromir said gravely. Faramir cried out, but Aragorn silenced his Steward with a look.

"They gates are guarded by men of Gondor." Aeglos was the speaked. He was striding to the small group. "I will go with you, with or without my fathers permision. I will get you through the gates." Aragorn looked grave and suprisingly old.

"I shall not hold you back. So it shall be five to go to Mordor…" But in that moment Dwain and Oin steped forward.

"Seven."

"Wha… What?" Aragorn stamered, caught off guard.

"Excuse me for interupting, Lord Elessar, but I believe that you miscounted. Seven will go. Oin and I will not just stand aside and alow the dwarves to go unrepresented."

"Fine. Now to think of a name. Fellowship of the dream." Legolas snorted in laughter.

"Ahem, that sounds a little familiar and stupid."

"I agree. Plus all we are is a group of free people." Celgalad.

"A Fellowship." Elgorn corected.

"Of flame…" Feanar said quietly. Gimli heard it and voiced it out loud.

"That is it, the Fellowship of Flame."


	5. Chapter Five

Chapter Five : The Black Sword 

A drop of rain fell on Feanar's face as he gazed across the plains of Pelennor. Osgiliath lay far to the east. Beyond that lay Feanar's home, then the moutains marking the land of Mordor. Feanar could see a glow just under the clouds and just above the moutains. He was sure that it came from Mt. Doom. As Feanar gazed blankly out of the White City, Celgalad was drawing nearer to Feanar, making a big show of sneeking up on Feanar to Elgorn. Elgorn stood a few paces away from Celgalad, shaking his head. When Celgalad was naught a few inches from Feanar, Feanar spoke, causing Celgalad to jump.

"I know you are there, Celgalad. You need to be a lot quieter to sneek up on me." Feanar turned his head just enough to see his startled friend. Elgorn walked up, smiling.

"I told you it wouldn't work, my loud friend." He glared evily at Celgalad. They each took their place at Feanar's side.

"Can you believe it? Hardly a week here and already we are preparing to leave. I wanted to explore this place, for the first time I did was not enough to quench my thirst. I was also planing on getting at least a week or two of sleep in a bed, not on the ground." Celgalad said.

"Quit complaining. We have gone longer without sleep even." Elgorn snaped at his friend. Celgalad waved it aside. "Thought you were going to get a sword, Feanar." Elgorn said, abruptly changing the subject. "Here is the best place to get swords that are less likely to break."

"True. I will go ask Aragorn." Feanar straitened and turned his back to Pelennor. "Thanks for reminding me Elgorn." He briskly walked to the great hall.

The hall was made of black and white stones. Over a white marble thone, a great golden replica of the kings crown hung. On the first step up to the thone, there was a black chair. That was the chair of the Steward. Both seats were empty at the moment. Feanar needed not to go far to find the ones who would fill the seats. Faramir and Aragorn were standing near the servants exit. Feanar heard that Faramir and Aragorn were in a conversation so Feanar stood a repectfull distance away. Aragorn noticed the young elf and gesursed him over.

"We were just speaking about you Feanar. Faramir here noticed that you were without a sword." Aragorn started. "Faramir also reminds me that we may have the perfect sword for you." Feanar blinked, confused. He bowed.

"Thank you."

"As I was saying to Aragorn, you seem to match a discription that a dream of mine. It had been telling me of an elf." Faramir said. Feanar's confusion increased, though it did not show on his face.

"A dream about me?"

"Yes, I think. In my dream there was a figure like an elf, wreathed in fire, rasing up the sword in question."

"What does this sword look like?"

"Black, with writing in Quenya on the blade." Aragorn said. "I do not know the language of Quenya, nor did any elf that passed through earlier. I know that Legolas has kept the language alive in Ithilien, so perhaps you would be able to read it." Aragorn stode forward and griped Feanar and Faramir's sholders. "Follow me to the armory." Aragorn abruptly turned and exited through the door leading to the lower levels. Faramir and Feanar quickly followed.

A few minautes later, Aragorn, Faramir and Feanar entered the armory, dimly lighting the large room with a torch. Feanar studdied a shirt of chain mail as Aragorn unlocked a trunk that had been covered in leather. Feanar stared as Aragorn pulled out a sheathed sword. The scabbard was a rusty-brown in color and had the look of much wear. Aragorn handed it to Feanar. Feanar grasped the handle, surprised to find that his hand fit in it perfectly. Powerfuly he drew the sword. He blinked. The black sword glitered in the light, but the blade was not whole. It was halfed on the blade. Feanar upturned the scabbard, and let the other half of the blade to fall out. The broken sword piece rang as it hit the ground. Feanar diped down to pick up the swords blade. Holding the scabbard and the sword piece in one hand, he looked at the engraving near the hilt of the blade. Aragorn was right, the language was that of Quenya.

"The name of this sword is Mormegil. The blade reads: 'Mormengil, sword of fire.'" Feanar looked at Aragorn. "Please, when you remake this sword, leave the engravings." He then sheathed both the broken piece and the hilt of the sword, and returned it to Aragorn's hand. "This gift, it is fit for a king, Lord Aragorn. I thank you."

Aragorn handed Feanar a map. "I will show you the best path of which you should take. Though do not make be your only plan, for things have a tendancy to go wrong." He looked at Faramir in amusement. The steward grined slightly, shaking his head. Feanar opened the map and placed it on a small table in the side of the room. It showed Gondor, Rohan and Mordor in great detail. Aragorn pointed at Osgiliath. "I'll start here, for it is for sure that you go there. From there, continue east. Soon you will reach the crossroads. Don't go on the path, just near, for we don't have any reports from the crossroads. All the scouts that went there would be here already, so I am lead to believe that they are dead." Feanar glanced at Faramir at this. The steward was as surprised at the news as Feanar was. "When you reach the intersection, go north."

"But wouldn't it be faster if they went to the Morgal vale?" Faramir asked.

"That is a cursed place, none now go there. We watch from the entrance of the vale, and the other side was empty, as last I know. But it would be better if they went the safer route. So Feanar, go north. The path should lead you to Udun. There we have men watching the place most carefully. From there you can go to Isenmouthe, and that is as far as you need to go. Many things there would tell if an enemy has come or not." Aragorn stood, and folded the map. In the hands of Feanar he placed it. "You need it, Minas Tirith does not. We have maps aplenty." Feanar willingly took the map.

"One thing I have been wondering, when should we leave?" Feanar asked. "Also when will I get the sword, for my hands need to get accostomed to the blade."

"Thank the Valar that you are no hobbit. Your questions are simple and to the point. A hobbit's are not." Aragorn and Faramir snikered. "The sword will be ready at nightfall. As for starting off, a week should be right. This gives you time to rest, and pack your, most likely, scattared things. Faramir,"

"Sir?"

"Make sure that the rest of the Fellowship is alerted and given what they need. I am asuming that you don't like armor?" Aragorn directed the question at Feanar.

"I will wear it if there is need. But I don't particularly _like_ it." Feanar said.

Aragorn laughed. "Spoken like a true Elven warrior. Well, your father and I will feel beter if you have some armor on. I will have a leather armor made for you and your friends. Aeglos and Boromir have armor. I believe the Dwarves do as well." Aragorn paused, aparently remembering something. Aragorn then shook his head. "I'll have the fool of a Took find you tonight." Feanar bowed, knowing that it was time for him to leave the men to themselves.


	6. Chapter Six

Chapter Seven: Guard of the Stewards

Night found Feanar sitting beside the beacon of Minas Tirith, again staring over the plains. His mind and heart yearning for his sister. Gilrean would calm him and make him laugh if he got too serious.

Feanar's mind wandered to Ithilien , swimming through memories of days past. The time he had fallen out of a tree and broken his arm. Gilrean was there to make him feel better and worse at the same time. At that occation, she teased him non-stop. _She _had made it to the top, where _he_ could not. As his mind drifted from that moment, it came to his mother. A fading memory she was, for he had been not even ten when it happened. He remembered vividly the orcs, his father yelling orders to his men, him trying to fight alongside his father instead of…

"Excuse me?" A quiet young voice caused Feanar to jump and turn his head around so fast he got a kink in his neck. There stood a child, in the atire of a guard. No, not a child, for the face was that of a man's. Must be the hobbit Aragorn had been talking about. On the hobbits sholders was a grey-green cloak that was of elvish make. Feanar stood, then to the hobbit's surprise, bowed.

"Pedigren Took, it is a honor to meet you." Feanar said. The hobbit blushed.

"Call me Pippen or Pip. Everyone does. Am I right in thinking you are Master Feanar Greenleaf?"

"Me? A master? Don't make me laugh. If I am a master then my father could ride a winged horse." Pippin blinked. "Ah, don't mind me. Just call me Feanar. None of the formal stuff." Pippin nodded quickly.

"King Aragorn wishes to speak with you. He said something about a sword." Pippin said, the curiousity hidden poorly.

"You have a question in your eyes."

"Em… well it is none of my buissness. To meddle in the afairs of wizards and elves, I mean." Pippin said uncomfortably.

"What? If you are going to figit about it, you may as well ask."

"What is Aragorn really calling you about?"

"A sword." Feanar said. "Lead away to your king." He was pleased to see Pippin figit more with questions as they started walking.

"You are about to burst with another question."

"Why is the king making a big deal about a sword?" Pippin blurted. Then he blushed again for his lapse. Feanar laughed. His plan worked, he had gotten Pippin to go beyond duty. Now he could become friends with the hobbit.

"It was broken and he had it fixed. Now he is giving it to me. Did that answer quench your thirst?" He teased. "Or do I have to resort to what my father had told me about answering a hobbit's questions." He nearly laughed at the look on Pippins face. It was a mix between sudden realization, enbarasment, and a pout. Feanar evily smiled. "Ah. I see my plan worked!"

"Why you! I thought elves were above that!" Pippin laughed. "Trickery, what a wonder."

"Nay, I was pulling you out of formalities." Feanar said. "It would be no good to try to become friends with one who was so absorbed in formalities. Master… hn." Feanar scoffed. The two reached the main hall.

"Arg. Why does the walk seem to be shorter when with a friend." Pippin moaned. Feanar looked at the hobbit and found amusement and youth in his eyes. Feanar then did a thing that Celgalad would do. He did a stupid, wild motion, offering the hobbit to go through the door first.

"After you."

AN: Muahahahaha... Had to leave you a hanger! Muahhaha! Ok, I will stop the stupid mad laughter. snicker snicker

Please say you like my charaters. Also tell me which you want to hear more of!


	7. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven: Personality Beyond

The pair entered the main hall, the elf side by side the hobbit, laughing. Yet they tried to stiffle their laughter as they caught sight of the mass of people gathered in the great hall. Legoals, Celgalad, Elgorn and Aragorn stood at the foot of the stairs to the throne. Boromir, Dwain and Gimli stood off to the side, with Faramir on the other. Faramir caught Pippin's eye, and gesured for Pippin to stand beside him. Pippin gave Feanar a look filled with longing and resentment. Feanar winked at the hobbit, causing Pippin to lose the look and bound to Faramir's side. Feanar aproached Aragorn, and bowed stiffly. Not in disrespect, but because of the fact that Legolas did not uphold the need to bow. His father found it combersome when he was trying to get an elf to report and all they were doing was lord-ing this and bowing that. Feanar was not accostomed to bowing this much.

"As I said, The sword called Mormegil is remade. Your request was upheald, Feanar." Aragorn started. Feanar nodded. "Gimli, Dwain, the sword please?" Dwain and Gimli strode forward, the rusty-brown scabbard heald between them. They presented it to Feanar. Feanar hesitated for a second, then grasped the sword. Again he griped the handle, and powerfuly drew the sword. The first thing that Feanar noticed was the length of the sword. It was near five feet, blade and all. The hilt was a burnt grey color. The blade was catching the glitter of sunlight and candles. The blade's engravings glitered. Feanar tested the swords balance, quite like he had been doing so for many years. He found himself examining the blade cridicaly, then remembered that he had never examined a swords balance this way before.

"The blade is perfectly balanced." Feanar stated, in a voice not his own. "The blade fits into the hilt so tightly that it does not move. A beautiful sword." He bowed more loosely to the Dwarves and to Aragorn.

"A kingly gift it is," Feanar said again, his voice back to normal, "I thank you for it." He sheathed the sword, a troubled look on his face. "How may I repay you? For I have none that could pay a king."

"Just find out what is happening in Mordor. That is all I ask." Aragorn said. He turned to Legolas. "Well you have taught your son in the way of swords."

"If that is so, he has not yet shown it. I know not of the way he examined the blade." Legolas said to his friend. "But a job well done by the dwarves!" He looked pointedly at the two dwarves. Gimli bowed. "Thanks."

"Excuse me, please, as I go test this sword." Feanar bowed and left the hall alone.

Pippin later looked for his new friend. He searched the beacon tower, and the record halls. As he was going to abandon his search for Feanar for some food, he found Elgorn and Celgalad arguing. Pippin aproched cautiously.

"I have little doubt that Feanar is on the beacon tower. He is always looking for high places." Celgalad was saying. Elgorn shook his head.

"He was already there, he wouldn't go back, knowing that we would look for him there." Elgorn growled. "We have a hobbit on our hands. What?" Elgorn snaped at Pippin. He stuttered when he spoke, unnerved by the elf.

"D-do you ha-happen to know whe-where F-feanar is?" Pippin sputtered. Celgalad glared at his friend, then smiled at Pippin.

"Don't worry over Elgorn here. His bark is much worse then his bite, when with friends. As for Feanar, that is what we are arguing about. We know naught about where he is." Celgalad put off an air of kindness, Pippin observed. Elgorn had a scowling outside, but Pippin remembered what Aragorn was like when he first met the man.

"Sorry, Master hobbit. Celgalad is right. I am nice, when you get over the seriousness of mine. I am the balance against Celgalad here in our trio." Elgorn explained.

"Pippin please. You are right, Master Elgorn. Feanar is not with the beacon." Pippin piped.

"Notice how he masters us, but not Feanar the level-headed." Celgalad scoffed. "Treat us how you would Feanar, and don't master us. In yen, we are not even out of infancy."

"So where is a secluded place out in the fresh air, Pippin?" Elgorn asked. Pippin was silent for a second, absorbing what the grey eyed elf had said.

" Erm… Oh yes! This way, follow me!" With that Pippin raced up the path to the Houses of Healing, elves on his heels.

Feanar sat on a bench in the courtyard guarden of the Houses of Healing. Here he had hoped for peace, for his mind was troubled. A red sun had set. His strange voice. The way his hand fit in Mormegil's handle so well and that its engravings seemed to match him. He hoped the air of healing would help him.

_Why, _Feanar asked himself, _whats with the voice?_ He couldn't answer this question. His mind began to wander as time passed…

_Screaming sounding all around him. Fire and orcs were all he could see. The heat of the fire nearly blocked all else, but he could feel the hand of his sister. He steped forward towards a tall figure that rose above the flames, yet was pulled back by a stonger force. He turned, to look into the face of his binder. His mother yelled something but he could not hear anything over the screams of agony. _

_Wrenching his hand from his mother, he and his sister rush towards the figure they reconised as their father. Over the noise of screaming, he could hear his father shouting orders._

_"Eford, block the main gate. Finforlin! Get your men together and aid Eford." His father turned to look at him and his sister. "What are you two doing! Go with your mother!" His sister began to fall back but he pushed forward._

_"No!" He yelled, "I want to fight! I don't want to be rushed away, not when you are in danger!" His friends soon came running up. The grey eyed one pulled at him, but the green eyed one was having to be held back by his sister from leaping to the gate._

_"All of you, Go With Tuna!" His father lept forward and slayed an orc. "I cannot stand here and protect you. Eford, Get that Gate Closed!" Over the multitude of noise, he was sure he heard a orc voice._

_"Fire!" Arrows streamed in over the gate. He turned towards his mother, only to see a arrow fly right at her. She turned to look at him and saw the arrow, but she didn't move._

_"NO!"_

_"Do not dwell on the past." _Feanar blinked. It was the voice of which he had spoken with earlier.

_Who are you? _Feanar asked the voice

_"You will know soon enough."_

AN: A yen for elves is 144 years of men. Yen are the elf year. So in the LOTR, good old Legolas is only 11 in yen. This story takes place 41 years after LOTR. So by this time Legy is 12!

Please don't interigate me on the deam or the voice… more will come later!


	8. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight: Diffrences

Boromir stolled into the House of Healing garden, mind everywere but where he was. He strode over to his favorate bench in the sun, and began to sit down. But his attention was caught by a half-shouted, No! His grey-green eyes snaped to the tree in the courtyard. There by the trunk was an elf, Feanar if Boromir remembered right. He cautiosly went over to the elf and placed a hand on his sholder. Feanar lept to his feet and drew his black sword. Boromir raised his hands to show the startled elf that he ment no harm. Feanar relaxed.

"What was that about?" Boromir asked.

"I was startled." A curt and and forced answer. Feanar turned his back on the man while sheathing Mormegil. A hand went to the elfs face, and Boromir had no doubt that he was wiping tears from his face. "Lovely here, isn't it Boromir?" Feanar looked at the man to mane sure he had the name right. Boromir nodded.

"Quiet. Calm. One of the few placed where a troubled mind could relax. Though you seem to be more troubled then most. May I ask, why?"

"You may not ask."

"Fine, fine. I won't push it." Boromir went back to his bench and picked up the sword he always left there. This was also a briliant place to practice and spar. He turned to the elf. "Care to spar with me?" Boromir hoped that Feanar would accept. He could judge the trustworthyness of one by the way wielded his sword.

"You're on." Feanar drew Mormegil. Boromir drew Namo. "As you may know, this is Mormegil." The elf's blue eyes sparkled in chalange.

"Namo is the name of this blade." Boromir answered back.

"The judge, apropriate, unless you cannot wield it well." Boromir knew the elf was trying to make him rush at him, so he kept his cool. Both waited for the other to atack, both hoping the other would let their guard down a moment. Neither of them noticed two elves and a hobbit enter the courtyard. Finaly Boromir atacked.

The blades met. Boromir was surprised by Feanar's strengh. He had to diflect three different blows before the two broke away from one another. The speed of the elf was also alarming. Feanar this time lept for the atack. Boromir deflected the sword, only to find that the elf's leg had come out. Unable to move in time, Boromir was tripped. He fell on his back and Feanar put Mormegil to Boromir's neck.

"Good. But not fast enough. I can trust you." Feanar stated. He let Boromir up. "Hopefully you trust me now." Boromir nodded. One with that fast of a sword, but that much control about where he places his blace was one to be trusted.

"Every day. Let's come here every day to spar. I have not been defeated by anyone here for a long time." Boromir said.

"It would be my pleasure." Feanar turned and walked over to his friends. Boromir removed himself to his bench. The two elves with the hobbit were also in the fellowship. _I wonder if they are as deft with a blade._ Boromir leaned back on the cool stone. _Father never told me of the skill of an elf. Nor did Aragorn._ He smiled to himself._ Well about time I was beaten. It was boring otherwise. _Boromir cast one last look at the foursome. They were all laughing. The short blond haied one was doing a inpresion on someone. From the look on the other blond elf's face, Boromir had a feeling that it was him. He looked at Feanar. He was laughing as hard as everyone else, but the shadow of worry remained in his eyes. Boromir then turned to leave. This quest would be interesding.

Feanar laughed among the rest at Celgalad's strange antics. But his mind was else -where again. It was on the strange Gonorian. The son of the steward, Boromir. If he remembered rightly, Legolas had said that Boromir was one of the nine walkers, and the brother of Faramir. Yet here was a man that almost fit the discription on the Boromir Legolas knew. Tall, dark haired, with grey-green eyes. He had an air of strength and confedince. Yet there was a hint of coolness and caution in the eyes.

"Feanar? You ok. You seem distant today." Elgorn said, causing Feanar to sanp out of his thoughts.

"Just a lot on my mind. Say, did anyone tell you of when we are leaving?" Feanar looked at the two elves. Both shook their heads. "A week, Aragorn sugests. So, Celgalad, you get to sleep in a bed for that time."

"Good! I tell you I needed it!" Celgalad said cheerfully.

"Never have I heard a elf conplain more." Pippin teased. Celgalad tuned his gaze to the hobbit, turning on the sad eyes.

"I'm hurt." Celgalad said in a false pained voice. Elgorn snorted.

"Pip is right. You conplain more than a orc."

"Tis' a wonder. I wish you had graced us with your absence this time." Feanar said. "My sister has been waiting to go on a journrey, and _she _doesn't complain at all."

"Hey, no grouping together against me! No fair!" Celgalad lept at Feanar, planing to takle him. Feanar rolled away just in time. The second time Celgalad caught Feanar and started tickling the dark haired elf. Laughing loudly, Feanar managed to kick Celgalad off and roll away, only to land on top of Elgorn. Celgalad tackled them both, creating a pile of elves. All three were surprised to feel another body jump on them, only to find Pippin rolling on the ground with them. A few momnets later, they found themselves laying on the ground, gasping for breath, and laughing with the breath they gained. Feanar hoped this day would never end.

In the end, all the four could say about that day was that emotions were let loose that would not have a chance to later.

AN: Yes, a quick look at Boromir. Sort of surfacey, but that was all I needed at this time. I was going for the deeper look at Feanar. All I needed to do was introduce the charater more, and to have them gain one anothers trust. Can't go on a quest together without knowing they can trust each other.


	9. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine: Gifts

The next week was little more than a blur in Boromir's eyes. Every day at noon, he would spar with Feanar. He still only lasted about a few blows. Sometimes Elgorn and Celgalad would watch, or spar one another. Where ever Boromir went, he would be pitied and good-lucked. Thus, he was always seeking solitude, or was looking for the others of the fellowship to be with. He had caught both dwarves once, finding them to his liking. Aeglos was absent the entire time. Boromir found himself spending more time with the elves, and the hobbit.

Pippin had been let off of duty untill after the fellowship left, so he had a lot of time on his hands. He was ever with the elves, joking and teasing. Boromir liked the time spent with the others. Yet Boromir could not help but notice that Feanar was removing himself more from the group as the end of the week came closer. From the looks of the others, he knew the others noticed as well.

Then, with the last night apon the fellowship, Boromir was pulled aside by his father after dinner. This troubled Boromir, but not as much as the worry in Faramir's eyes.

"Why, Boromir?" Faramir asked, his voice quivering. "Why did you willingly chose to go to Mordor? You will get killed!" Boromir placed a calm hand on his father's shaking one. Boromir's mind was racing. _Why, indeed?_ Boromir searched his mind and heart for a reason.

"Because my heart told me that it was the best thing to do. I don't know exactly what made me follow my heart at that time, I just did." Boromir looked away from his father, closing his eyes. When he spoke again, his voice was full of many emotions that could not be seperated.

"The name I bear is one of honor and glory, yet of grusome deaths. That may not be my fate." _Why, Boromir! Why!_ "I just ask you, as my father, to suport any disision that I make. You need not to agree with it, just suport me." _Please father, you don't know how hard it was for me to come to this conclusion._ Faramir sighed.

"Yes, I will suport you. I always have and won't stop now. Just answer this, truthfully. Do you think you will die?" _Do I? When going to the land of Mordor, where only two have survied, will I?_

"If my comrads are as reliable in battle as I am lead to believe, then mabie. One can never know." _One can never know…_A shout from down the hall drew Boromir's attention. It was Feanar calling to him.

"Do you know where any others of the fellowship are?" Feanar asked. _What is that in his eyes? Worry, confusion?_

"Unfortunately, no. I saw a few of them at dinner. I have a feeling that they went to their quarters. Why were you not at dinner?"

"Oh… well, had something on my mind that has been knawing at me for some time. Now more than ever." Feanar looked very uncomfortable. _It is saddness in his eyes. Saddness?_

"Ok. I'll help you look for the others. Just tell me what to say." Boromir put a conforting hand on Feanar's sholder.

"King Aragorn wants to see us before we turn in. He asks that we meet in the first wall guard house. I have no clue what this meeting is about. Let's go, unless you are not done talking to lord Faramir." Boromir looked over at his father, who nodded.

"Let's go."

An hour later, everyone was gathered together. Feanar, Celgalad, Elgorn and Boromir sat together at one side. Dwain sat with Oin in the middle, talking rapidly in Dwarvish. Aeglos sat near his father at the top of the table. Aragorn stood and looked at the fellowship of flame.

"Not once have all of us dined together, and now there is no time. Instead I will give all of you a presant that I hope will help you on your travles. Aeglos, my son. I give you only my blessing, for you have all that I could phisicaly give to you. Boromir, son of Faramir, come forth." Boromir blinked, yet did as his lord comanded. "I give you this horn. It was worn by the Boromir of the nine-walkers. I had it remade in remeberance of him, but I think it will come of use. It strikes fear in an enemy heart and courage in a allies." Boromir accepted this gift greatfully. He sat back down beside Dwain. The dwarf looked very interested with its make, so Boromir let him look at it.

"To you, Elgorn, I give you a jacket of leather. Light is is yet almost as tough as metal armor." Elgorn accepted the gift silently. Celgalad recevied the same.

"Feanar. You seem to need much, for already I have given you a sword, yet now I give you more. A leather jacket, I give you also, anlong with this." Aragorn lifted a grey cloak. It seemed to change colors at every movement. "This cloak was given to me by the Lady Galadriel of Lorien. I am reluctant to give it away, but I have this strange feeling that you will need it more than I." Feanar bowed low in thanks.

"Dwain. You are almost the same as your father. To you I give a pipe. At difficult times, a pipe always alows one to think a little clearer." Dwain thanked Aragorn most graciously.

"And Oin, last not in my mind, I give this." Aragorn handed a small sheild to Oin. It had a golden horse running on it. "It once belonged to Theoden of Rohan. Gimli bore it at the battle of Helm's Deep, and caried it all the way here. He forgot it though. I have conversed with him, and he willingly gives it to you as well."

"Also like Gimli, I would rather bear a horse then be borne by one." Oin said gruffly. The rest of the fellowship laughed.

"I apoint Aeglos and Feanar the guides, for both know where the safest path lies. We expect you back here in one month, or two at the most. Now, I believe that you should get some rest. When do you plan on leaving?"

"Dawn, if no one objects." Elgorn said. Everyone nodded in agreement.

"So be it. I have little doubt that you will be seen off by most of Minas Tirith. Good night." Aragorn left. The fellowship sat in silence for a moment, then started conversing on many things

Dwain woke abruptly, not knowing why. He sat up. The sky was still dark, dawn still far off. Dwain knew that he would not go back to sleep, so he quietly got up and sliped his boots on. Once outside, he paused. _Where should I go?_ Dwain thought. He looked up. The beacon tower could be seen in the quarter moon light. _There!_ Dwain started off for the tower.

Apon reaching the platform, he saw that he would not be alone. Feanar stood there, lightly outlined by the moonlight, seemingly frozen. Dwain strode forward, planing to sit beside the elf. As he aproched, Feanar moved his head slightly to see who it was.

"Ah… Dwain. Could you not sleep?" The elf asked quietly.

"Nay. You?" Dwain sat down, back on a pole, facing the elf. Much had he changed from when Dwain had first seen him. Dwain couldn't place what had changed though.

"Haven't for a week." Feanar answered. _Sadder, quieter, or mabie more cautious_.

"Why?"

"For some reason, unwanted memories keep showing themselves." _All three, plus more distant._

"About what?"

"I cannot say, for they are too near." Feanar looked up at the stars. "This place, for some reason just haunts me with memories."

"About who?"

"In one thing you havent changed, my dwarf friend. You still ask a intorable number of questions." Feanar said, smiling. He turned towards the dwarf, and mimiced his pose. "I will answer some of them. The memories are about my mother."

"Why? What happened?" Dwain couldn't resist in saying. Feanar was different and Dwain wanted to know why.

"Many things." Dwain couldn't help but notice Feanar rubbing his exposed collar bone. On closer examination, Dwain could faintly see a scar.

"Ok, ok, don't tell me. Be a distant elf. Geez." Dwain said. Feanar's eyes flashed.

"I haven't changed much. You just caught me at a strange time."

"Ah! The elf reads my mind again!" Dwain teased. "I see that you havent changed much. You have become more quiet." Dwain shifted. "Do ya still like weapons like I do?"

"Indeed I do. I saw your ax. A beauty. Who made it?" Feanar eagerly said.

"Why, my friend Glin. You met him. He was the loud one."

"Was he know…" Feanar and Dwain talked like this untill the sky lightened to pink. Then the sky went blood red. Feanar saw this and faltered.

"What is it, Feanar?" Dwain asked as Feanar stood quickly. Feanar didn't speak for a little bit. When he did, his voice was quied and troubled.

"A red sun rises. Again blood has been spilt. But where…" Dwain blinked. _Again? When was the first time?_ Feanar surised Dwain again in sudenly bounding away from the edge and shouting.

"Come, come, now is the time we should find the others and get our packs. See you at the gate, Dwain!" Then he was gone, leaving a bewildered dwarf to blink in confusion like an owl in the sunlight.

Boromir stood at the edge of the wall, awaiting the dawn and the rest of the fellowship. Many of the fellowship had not slept well, Boromir knew, himself included. The restlessness of beginning a journey was apon them. Aeglos, whom shared Boromir's room when in the city, paced all night. At midnight, Boromir had seen Feanar sneek up to the beacon tower. Dwain had followed Feanar, an hour later. Elgorn rose a hour before dawn, and stood like a stature beside Boromir. He was wraped in a cloak and could barely be seen by Boromir, who knew where the elf stood. Celgalad and Oin had not appeared, so Boromir was lead to believe that they had not awaken yet.

Elgorn shiffted. "Should we start looking for the others, or wait by the main gate?" The green eyed elf asked.

"Hmm. I believe that we should go to the dinning part of the guardhouse. If I know anything of dwarves, it is that they would go noware without knowing they had enough food." Boromir strode for the guardhouse, where men were coming in from their night shifts. Boromir's guess proved correct, as Oin and Dwain were packing dried hams and fruits into their packs. Feanar and Celgalad were standing to the side, visibly stiffling snickers. Boromir and Elgorn approched them.

"A bit of a load that will be, with all that food." Celgalad said quietly so only Elgorn, Feanar, and Boromir could hear it.

"Looks like their packing enough for all seven of us. Do they not trust us to carry our share?" Boromir scoffed, sarcasam easily heard. "We men are hardy. We would carry our share and more if we must."

"It's not that." Feanar said, carefully hiding the laughter on his lips. "They are young dwarves, they ear more then anyone else on Middle Earth, except mabie hobbits." Feanar looked up. "Say, where is that wooly-footed Pip. I would like to say good bye to that little rascle before we go."

"I belive that he has not awakened yet. I have heard that hobbits sleep well past sunrise." Elgorn said. The dwarves finished packing their food and strode over to the troop of elves and men. They caried seven plates between them. As Oin stoped, Feanar had to lunge to prevent plates from crashing to the floor.

"So kind of you, to bring us breakfast. I think that they are keepers." Celgalad teased. Dwain gave the elf a dark look as he set some of the plates down on a nearby table.

"Where is Aeglos? We got enough for him to eat with us, and yet he is not here." Dwain complained. Yet just as Dwain was finishing his sentence, Aeglos walked in. He sat down beside Boromir. "Where were you?"

"Conversing with Aragorn." Aeglos said simply. Feanar shook his head at Dwain as the dwarf opened his mouth to question Aeglos. Boromir looked up from his meal to see this conversation take place. "Who is the extra plate for, Dwain?"

"You." The dwarf huffed.

"Oh, thanks, but I ate already." Aeglos said. The dwarf sighed.

"All that extra work for nothing…" Aeglos looked at the dwarf in wory, but the dwarf laughed. Boromir went to return his eyes to his plate when he caught sight of a small figure at the door.

"Hey! Well what do you know, the hobbit is up! The food is not wasted." The hobbit came to the table and grabed the plate. Beside him was a sack.

"Whats in the bag Pip?" Feanar asked. In front of the elf, an empty plate sat. Boromir blinked at this. He himself was not half way done yet! Pushing that thought out of his mind with a smile, he concetrated on the bag. Grey it was, and slightly bulging. Boromir frowned. What could it be?

"Oh, just a little something I made." Pippin, between bites, reached down to grab the bag. He dumped it on the table. Seven necklaces slid out. Each necklace had a small carved sword strung on it with a piece of leather, with the pattern of fire on each blade. On the oppisit side, a engraving of each of their names showed in black. "Find the one with your name on it."

"Wow, thanks Pip!" Celgalad exclamed. "Did you make it yourself?"

"I, unfortunatly, am not that good a widdling. I bought thease specialy for you at one of the stores. Cost me a lot, but it was worth it. Boromir slowly picked his out and put it on.

"Thanks a lot, Pip."

AN: Well? Do you like? I think it is one of my longest chapters. I hardly ever write this much for anything, nonetheless a story. I usualy get something in my head, then write it down. After I write a chapter or two, the story leaves my head. Not this one. Please R&R for me. Correct it as needed.

I like to thank you steph for the encoragement you have given me. Also I thank Curious one, though I would like to know who you are… like a e-mail or just a name… or anything… please?


	10. Chapter Ten

Just a little thing for people to keep in mind. The name maters in this story. Here is the meanings of a few of the names: Feanar – Flame SpiritCelgalad – Silver light Elgorn – dreaded star Also, Feanar's name is simalar to one called Feanor. Keep the name in mind! (Better take my advice!) There was a reason I have Faramir's son named Boromir, other then the reason told in the story. You will find this out the other reasons later… but everyone knows that I will put all of the characters through hell. There would be no point to writing the story if I didn't (-' I just know I will get torn apart soon). I'll give you a longer explanation of this at the end of the chapter. Chapter Ten: East the Path Lies 

Fully loaded, with armor, swords, packs and all, the Fellowship of Flame made its way down to the gates of Minas Tirith. The farther down the path they went, the more people there were to chear them on. Finaly the fellowship reached the gates. There stood Aragorn, with Arwen, Legolas, Faramir, and Gimli at his side. Pippin was also there, having left the fellowship as they went to retreve their packs. A chear arose from the crowd as the fellowship bowed to the collected lords.

Aragorn spoke. "Now is the hour that you seven shall set forth. All who stand here ask that the Valar protect you. All we ask of you is that you find what is brewing inside Mordor." Every face in the courtyard was grave. Aragorn signaled to a man behind him.

"Open the gate!" The guard yelled. The entire fellowship staired at the opening gate with growing anticipation. To get started was all they wanted to do at this moment. Boromir lifted the remade horn of Gondor and gave it a blast. The horn's tones reflected off of the mountain that the white city was built into, making it sound like there was a whole army marching out. This effect was renforsed by the cheers that arose again.

As if by a signal, the fellowship picked a quick pace and marched out of the city onto the fields of Pelenor. Osgiliath glinted in the distance, acting as a stimulant for the fellowship. The Ash mountains rose above Osgiliath and glowed with a slight red tinge on their caps. Quickly Minas Tirith was left behind the fellowship. They stoped at sunset. Fifteen leages they had covered on this flat ground, a good start.

"Tomorrow we should relax our pace." Aeglos said, sliping his pack off his back. Boromir and Feanar shook their heads in agreement and most of the others didn't react. Oin had something to say though.

"Why? Everyone is fresh and willing, and we would be able to get to the Black Gate in less than ten days." He protested.

"We need to keep up our strength to be able to survive anything that might be in our way." Elgorn said. "We will get there in two weeks if we go a little bit slower."

"Arg! I knew I would forget something, even if I went through my bag three times before we left." Celgalad growled. "Why did I have to forget a map! Why! I knew we would need it."

"Don't worry, I have one here." Feanar said, pulling the out the map that Aragorn gave him. He laied the map out flat beside the small fire. He pointed a point on the eastern part of the Pelenor Fields on the map. "I think we may be around this point."

"I thoght that the fields were bigger then that!" Exclamed Dwain. "I thought that we would reach Osgiliath tomorrow night!" Aeglos shook his head.

"The plains are deceving. At times it looks bigger then it is, sometimes it looks small. When that is the case, you are in for a nasty surprise when you don't get to where you want to in the estimated time. We are making better time then I thought. We should reach Osgiliath tomorrow sometime around noon." Aeglos looked at Feanar. "I think we should set a watch, not for the fact that we will be in danger for your people still hold Ithilien, but intead to get used to it." 

"I agree." Feanar said. "I'll take the first watch, from now until midnight. Who will take the second watch?"

"I'll do so." Elgorn gruffly said. The fellowship all agreed with the arangements and extinguished the fire. "No one worry about the fire in the morning. I'll light it. That will be the job of the second watchman, when we have a fire." With this, Elgorn fliped over and fell asleep.Feanar sat on a stone overlooking the others of the fellowship and beyond. He let his mind wander again.

_"No!" He yelled, "I want to fight! I don't want to be rushed away, not when you are in danger!" His friends soon came running up. The grey eyed one pulled at him, but the green eyed one was having to be held back by his sister from leaping to the gate._

_"All of you, Go With Tuna!" His father lept forward and slayed an orc. "I cannot stand here and protect you. Eford, Get that Gate Closed!" Over the multitude of noise, he was sure he heard a orc voice._

_"Fire!" Arrows streamed in over the gate. He turned towards his mother, only to see a arrow fly right at her. She turned to look at him and saw the arrow, but she didn't move._

_"NO!" He yelled. He raced for his mother, as he watched the arrow strike her in the stomage. He struggled past a few other elves to reach his mother. She wasn't dead. She couldn't be. A large crash sounded behind him but he cared not._

_"Hold the line! Keep them at bay!" His father yelled. Another volley of arrows flew from the growing orc swarm at the gates. He sheilded his mother from another arrow, getting hit just between his collar bones. It was never so hard to breath, to force gulp after gulp of air into his screaming lungs. He felt himself slipping away, his blue eyes dulling in pain._

_"My son… no…" His mother said as he slowley faded in to blackness. She snaped the arrow and covered his neck with a cloth. Then she whispered some words that he couldn't understand anymore. Then he was gone, nothing but black was around him._

_"Nothing will come from dwelling on the past." _It was the voice again!

_"Tis inposible to forget." _Feanar responed. _"Again I ask for you to give me your name."_

_"I am you as you are me…" _The voice said. It faded and Feanar was broght back to reality. He looked at the moon. Midnight, his watch was over. He stood and shook Elgorn awake. Then he fell into his bed and a heavy, dreamless sleep.

Elgorn watched closely as Feanar fell asleep. He could read Feanar's moods like he could read a book. Feanar was trobled by memories again. The saddness indicated that it was the memories about his mother. Elgorn also remembered that day well. He had been there to back Feanar up. If it hadn't been for Gilrean, he would have lept upon the orcs. He still would today with the same vigor for they were the reason his family left for Greenwood. Elgorn couldn't go with, for his heart was with Ithilien, and Gilraen. He would never say this to anyone, but he knew it. Akward it was to be in love with his best friend's sister. But as fate was cruel, Elgorn could not truly get her out of his mind. 

Gilraen had first caught his eye that same day that the orcs atacked. It was a time of chaos, death and pain. Elgorn had been bewildered by Gilraen's bravery. She was the one to hold him back, but not run away. She was the one who was strong when Tuna and Feanar were found and thought to be dead. She was the who held strong for her father as they morned the loss of Tuna, and was the one to not leave Feanar's side while he battled the poisonus arrow. Legolas was almost overcome with grief, and if it hadn't been for Gilraen, he would have given up on all hope.

Elgorn had badly wished that he knew what Gilraen was thinking during this time. He learned when he found her crying in a room alone. Elgorn could not stand the sight of the strong one crying so he proved to be her base, her sholder. Even now, Elgorn was one of the people she could go to for support, other then her twin brother.

Only one mystery had not been solved yet. His soul badly wanted an answer, but he knew that one of the avalible answers would shatter him. Did she love him? Elgorn could not ask anyone but her, and he could not gather the courage to ask her. So confusing and so hard love was, and so cruel it could be. There was more chance to hurt then to be happy. But that chance to be happy pulled at Elgorn. He played with the necklace that Pippin gave him. Perhaps this time he should ask her, for he may not ever be able to ask again. If she said yes, the necklace was for her. If not, he would break the necklace to show his broken soul.

The sky grew lighter with the coming dawn, already red. _There is something in Mordor, _Elgorn thought, _But what it is…_

AN: The Elgorn view was unpredicted by me. I just felt the chapter would be too short compared to the last one, so I started typing a bit about Elgorn. The thing is, his part was easier to type. Odd… I'm getting more atached to him. I thought the charater that I would be most crazy about would be Feanar or Celgalad. Feanar is my most liked for now, but Elgorn has replaced Celgalad for number two.

The elf I was talking about, Feanor, was an elf in the time of Morgoth, the original dark lord. Even Saruon was a servant to Morgoth. Morgoth was once one of the Valar (elvan gods) but he was denounced. Morgoth was first called Melkor, until he took the simarals of Feanor. Feanor was the one to call Melkor, Morgoth. When Feanor was killed, his body needed not to be creamated, for when his spirit left his body to go across the sea, it burnt the body. Most of the elvan spirits return to Middle Earth at one point, but by the time of LOTR, three ages later, Feanor's spirit had not returned. This story takes place in the Fourth age of Middle earth, or as may be shown (I don't know) F.A. 44.

Tell me who you favorate charater is so far… I will take that into consideration when I type a view point. I was thinking about doing a Chapter from Gilraen's view, when the Fellowship comes to Rhunangando. But if you say not then, then I will do it from either Feanar's view or Elgorn's view. But I will do that part. Just give me a hint on who's eyes this part will be seen through.

Remember my name hints! I mean it! And don't kill me before I finish the story. If you don't like it then, kill me.


	11. Chapter Eleven

The elvish I will try to get as close as I can. Some will be accurate, and all will be translated at the end of the chapter. The reason it is in elvish now and wasn't before is because there are those who don't understand any of the dialects of elvish. Chapter Eleven: Of Cruel Love 

The journey through Osgiliath and the woods on the west side of Rhunangando was uneventful. Feanar was leading the Fellowship at this moment, for he knew thease paths more than any elf in Rhunangando. The fellowship approched the great gate with causion, just to be sure that they didn't get shot. The sun was falling behind the Ash mountains, casting a grey shadow on the land. As the fellowship aproched, an Elf cryed in Sindarian.

"Daro! Methed en gald ten eana ian anun uial. Neha?" The elf said. Feanar reconized it as Elford.

"Edro, mellon-nin. Feanar ena whana anun mornie." Feanar replyed. He then swiched the language to that of the comon tounge. "With me are two dwarves, Two men, Elgorn and Celgalad. We request access." The silver rope was thrown over the side. Feanar climed first. By the time all of the fellowship had clamered up the rope, Gilraen has come to the tower. Feanar and Gilraen caught each others eye at the same time and she lept into his arms.

"I'm so glad you are back! I want to know what is going on, for many elves are scared." She said. Feanar smiled.

"Elford, find Folnagan, tell him to give our guests quarters." Elford saluted and strode off. Elgorn watched the twins talk, fiddling with his necklace. _When will I ask, oh my poor soul_. As Folnagan arived, so did the time arive in Elgorn's mind. _Tonight. _

Later that night, Elgorn walked slowly over to Gilraen's room. _What to say, what to say._ This was going to be more difficult then he first thought. He reached her door, necklace in hand. He hesitated, took a deep breath, then knocked. An answer for him to enter came instantly.

"You can place the cloak on the table…Oh" Gilraen started, then turned around. "I wasn't expecting you, Elgorn."

"Hello, Sister of my friend." He shifted uncomfortably, and slowly approched her. _Aw, just do it._ "There is one thing that is in my mind right now. One question. Do you… uh." Elgorn paniced. He still had not the courage to ask. He had not the courage to tell her that her face lit a fire inside him, that her voice was like rain on a desert.

"What? Do I what?" So inviting her voice sounded.

"Do you love…?" Elgorn tried again. _I can face all the orcs of Mordor, but this is too dificult._

"Who do I love? Is that what you are asking?" Gilraen said. Elgorn nodded. "Blind you are, if you could not see." Elgorn's heart fell, for that line sounded like certin doom to him. "It is you that I love." Gilraen said so quietly that Elgorn looked up in alarm. Her eyes were filled with tears. "Who, who is it you love?"

"You. I have for many many years. I was nearly torn with pain for I had not the courage to approch you." He drew close to her and wiped the tear on her perfect left cheak. Then, brushing her hair away, kissed her forehead. She sighed and hugged Elgorn. She pulled His head down so they could kiss on the lips. The kiss was so intense, so loving, Elgorn and Gilraen both knew that they would never tire of it. When they broke apart for air, Elgorn pressed into Gilraen's hand the sword necklace.

"For you, love." She took it and examined it. Then she put it around her neck and snuggled into Elgorns arms. They leaned against a wall together and staired out at Ithilien with all its beauty. But the Ash mountains loomed over the two elves.

"Feanar told me everything that has happined." Her voice held a hint of pain and sorrow. "What do you think will happen?"

"I don't know. I think that a war will break out, for there is something in Mordor, and the free peoples cannot alow a new dark lord to rise." 

"Do you think that anyone will live?"

"There are so few elves left here on Middle earth. But the men have a strong leader. I believe that the elves will diappear after this war, if we win. Men will have total domanation of the lands once heald by elves." Elgorn sighed. "That is why we must stop it here and now, so that all of us are not erased." Elgorn broke apart from Gilraen. "Let us hope that we were on time to stop it. Gilraen came over to Elgorn and placed a ring in his hand.

"This ring was Legolas' mothers, given to him before she died. Our family has suffered much in the ways of loss. Feanar would never stop fighting even if is doomed to a thousand orcs to one. Be like him, for I could not lose you as much as I could not lose my brother." The ring was a beautiful blue satphire ring, the stones aranged in the way of a dragon in flight. A small emerald stone was its eye. Elgorn placed it on his middle index finger. Then he kissed Gilrean once more, as a brief good-bye.

Dinner with the fellowship was a glazed over time. Elgorn could not focus on anything at all, which Feanar noticed. He pulled Elgorn to the side after the dinner.

"What has gotten into you?" He asked harshly. Elgorn smiled.

"I did what I have wanted to do for years." He raised his hand with the ring on it as explination. Feanar's eyes grew wide as he reconised the ring.

"Never have you said that you loved her."

"I was afaid of rejection. But as we may be going to our deaths in Mordor, I had to know."

"She has been waiting for you for a long time my friend." Feanar happily said. "I approve of your love. And I say : About Time! What in the name of the Valar took you so long!" Elgorn just laughed.

AN: Well, I know I said I would do this in Gilraen's view point, but I did it in Elgorn's instead. I told you I was getting atached to Elgorn.

Here are the translations of the elvish:

Daro! Methed en gald ten eana ian anun uial. Neha?

Stop! To the end of the wood you have come under the twilight. Name?

Edro, mellon-nin. Feanar ena whana anun mornie.

Open, my friend. Feanar has come under the darkness.


	12. Chapter Twelve

Chapter twelve: Battle under the stars

Feanar returned to his study after his conversation with Elgorn. He was very confused in his mind at the moment. He was happy for Elgorn and Gilraen, but he wondered if Elgorn's choice was right. Gilraen would be broken if Elgorn fell during this journey. Before, she had waited. Unhappily, but she did wait. Now Feanar was not so sure. His sister was a bit headstrong and quite brave. She would not think twice about following the fellowship.

As Feanar entered his study, he grew faint. Swaying, he managed to grab his chair to prevent him from falling. His breathing grew harsh and his head spun. With blurred eyes, he was able to read the date. Tuile 46. Yes, the day of the attack. The day he lost his mother and almost his own life. Still the poison affected Feanar, causing weakness. Feanar was glad to be in his study instead of dinner. He had told his friends that he had fully recovered from that dreadful injury, but Gilraen knew otherwise. Feanar looked at his hand, white and shaking, where with his other he rubbed the scar between his collarbones. He mentally beat himself. _Why did I not remember it was today? Why is Gilraen not here? Why can I not get over it, defeat it! I should be able to knock this weakness aside!_ Feanar moaned and collapsed.

_He woke up in a bed, feeling weak and tired. He tried to sit up, not remembering what had happened to him._

_"Feanar, stay there! Don't move!" His fathers pained voice caused him to try harder. He managed to sit up before the lightheadedness came on him. He nearly hurled on his father. His fathers blue eyes were full of worry, sadness and… distance. This worried him. Then they hit him, all the memories, all the pain of him seeing his mother fall, all the pain of seeing his mother fade in his hands as he tried to protect her. The pain in his own chest, all of it he remembered. He reached a hand up to his collarbones. There was an x shaped scar, perfectly matching the barbed arrows that the orcs used. _

_Tears sprang to his eyes. "Mother, what happened to mother? Father! Tell me! Is mother going to be alight?" The sadness and distance grew in his father's eyes. "Father! Don't fade on me father! Stay with me! Please…" He hugged his father, both of them crying at the loss. His sister entered as well hugging us both._

"_**Do not think of the past!**"_

"_Is almost better then what is happening now. I just hope there is no war." _He said to the voice.

"**There will be war. You know that, your friends know that, your sister knows that. You should just hope the whole war is not like the Battle under the Stars."**

"_I don't know that battle!"_

"_**But I do. And what I know, you know, now."**_

"_Are you of that time?"_

"_**You're learning."**_

"Feanar, come back! Feanar, return to me, do not give in!" Feanar moaned to himself. Where was he? He tried to move a little. Soft and feathery it was. A bed. And that voice, his sister, Gilraen! He opened his eyes taking in the look of worry on Gilraen's face. Why…? Ah, yes, Tuile 46. Feanar gestured to Gilraen the question if he could sit up. She nodded. He slowly lifted himself up.

"What happened?" He asked.

"You forgot what happens to you today."

"Thanks so much for putting that part so blunt." Feanar said in disgust. Gilraen smiled weakly.

"For some reason, you are affected by the poison more today then any other day." She said.

"That's what I wanted to know." Feanar stood up. "The time?"

"Midnight. And there are people wanting to know where you are… You are the prince of this place…"

"Don't remind me…" He glanced down at the mithril headband on the nightstand. Legolas's brother, then Legolas himself, had worn it. Now it was his. He looked sternly out the window, quite unaware how he looked like an Elf of the ancient days. "Has Legolas returned?"

"Nay. You made amazing time here. I doubt that he would have left Minas Tirith for a day more." Feanar walked aver to the window. Then he looked at the sword. The black sword that he had obtained. Mormengil. He walked over to the sword, his deep blue eyes troubled. Drawing the sword, Feanar turned to Gilraen.

"You are more learned of the ancient days. Who lived in the ancient days, dies in the battle of the stars, and was alive when this swords name was?" Gilraen took the sword from Feanar's hand.

"Mormengil." Gilraen said is amazement. "Name bestowed upon Turin Turambar by the elves of Nargothrod. Turin wielded a black sword." Gilraen's eyes glazed, as they always did when talking about history. "There were many who died in the battle under the stars. Feanor being the most mourned."

"That's it! That's who he is!" Feanar said excitedly. "Feanor…"

"What are you talking about, Feanar?"

"Am I right in saying that Feanor had not yet returned to Middle Earth?"

"You are."

"Then I just lied. He has, just a few years ago, but he has! He is I, I am he. He has been speaking with me of late. That's whom I was speaking to during the sleep. That's who you pulled me from!"

"But why now? Why would he return now in you?" Gilraen asked quietly. Feanar shook his head.

"Perhaps it is to do with the coming darkness."


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Chapter thirteen: Midnight raid

Boromir was restless that night. He knew what it was like to be around elves, but the amount of activity there was at night amazed him. It was just one continues stream, in and out of random rooms, all done in a swift walk. Boromir was curious about what they were doing, but knew that an adains presence was not usually liked. Thus he strolled around in the main hall of the leaders building, Legolas had very odd taste for what was said to be an elf's style. There were no moons or paintings of past stories. What were pictured were different landscapes, ranging from the rolling plains of Rohan, to forested hills of what Boromir thought to be Lothlorien.

There were also quick reach weapons everywhere in Boromir's sight. Legolas had seemed to be level headed in Minas Tirith, but not so battle ready. In fact, Legolas had seemed to be the one that was the most relaxed… other then Celgalad. Yet here was a battle ready stronghold… Boromir wondered at what happened to this peaceful place to make it so… so… like it was. A strange horn caught Boromir's attention. That was not horn of men, nor was it one of the elves.

Shouts caused Boromir to wonder what was going on. He opened the door to see elves striding up and down the hall, many of them holding bows. He griped his sword and joined the flow, catching sight of some of the fellowship. It was Aeglos, Dwain, and Celgalad. Celgalad was barking orders, well changed from the laid back elf that had been shown. Boromir could hear Elgorn also barking orders from the other side of the wall. Boromir headed towards Elgorn and saw that Oin was with him, ax raised.

"Elgorn! Where is Feanar?" Boromir shouted over another horn blast.

"He is somewhere else." Oin said. Elgorn glared for a moment, then shoved a bow into Boromir's hands.

"Orc raid, larger then normal. You know how to use a bow right?" Boromir nodded. He heard a shout from the top of the wall and looked up. There stood Feanar, the captain of the troops. A glint of mithril shone around his head and his eyes were ablaze. Boromir saw the elf for the prince he was and would willingly fight to the death for him.

"DARO!" Feanar called and all the elves instantly stop firing arrows. Boromir and the others lunged up the stairs to join the ranks. The sky was cloudy so all Boromir could see was the lighted wall of touches behind the Elvin ranks. Boromir's senses began to grow due to the air of battle, thus he could hear the restless rustle of elves, the slow pounding of orc feet. He readied the bow in his hands. Then he glanced at Feanar again. The elf captain had his blue bow at ready, his sword sheathed at his side. What he was waiting for, Boromir knew not, but every elf trusted him.

"Yenata!" His voice rang out. Instantly all the bows around Boromir were raised up to a predetermined angle and fired. Boromir followed suit and smiled at the orc cries. He heard them turn away and retreat a few yards before stopping. Then they started forward again. Longer was the wait for the call this time, which worried Boromir. Where was the yenata cry?

"FIRE AT WILL!" Was Boromir's reply. He kept the angle that had been set, where others around him chose lower angles. Every arrow met a target. The battle was quickly over, without a single Elvin casualty. Boromir was amazed at the efficiency of the Elvin defense. He lowered his bow and looked over at the dwarves.

"Not a swing. Not even a sight of them." Oin was grumbling. Dwain nodded solemnly, his eyes not on his comrade, but on Feanar. Boromir also glanced that way. Feanar stood, looking at the gate. In the torchlight, his normally deep tan face was pale, the flames casting a dancing shadow on his face. Boromir strode up, stuffing the bow in the hands of a passing elf.

"Feanar? What's wrong?" Feanar's unnatural blue eyes focused on Boromir.

"This was too simple. Too easy." Boromir was alarmed. Feanar seemed different. He seemed he had a hidden force, a hidden strength that even the leadership skills didn't show. Boromir opened his mouth to reply, but a horn cut him off. It was an elfin horn.

"Elegost!" Feanar snapped. He turned his head slightly to Boromir. "The gate!" At this, Feanar sprang off, shouting orders as he ran. Boromir stood, flabbergast. The great Iron Gate? How? His thoughts were interrupted as someone smacked into him. It was Aeglos. The king's son stumbled slightly then turned.

"Boromir?" He said uncertainly. The steward's heir nodded to his lord. "Do you know where this gate the elves are yelling about is?"

"No idea." Stated a gruff voice from waist level. Oin and Dwain stood at ready, blank looks on their faces. The members of the fellowship stared at one another.

"This is just great… they forget about us mortals…" Oin grumbled.

"Wrong my friends." A woman's voice flowed over them. It was Gilraen in full armor. "Feanar noticed that you didn't follow him and ordered me to summon you. Every stronghold has a side gate. Follow."

Elgorn stood at the small wooden gate, no more then a two doors length, with his sword raised. In his mind, two memories played themselves out again and again. The more he wished that they would subside, the more they began to replay. An abrupt crash on the gate and an elf horn alarmed Elgorn. Feanar appeared at Elgorn's side.

"Where's Celgalad?" The prince snapped. Elgorn shook his head, eyes fixed on the gate. It quaked under another blow, yet didn't give.

"We need more elves." Elgorn stated softly.

"The walls are fortified, my lord." Rang a voice. Elgorn's heart leapt. Gilraen. "And I have the others of the fellowship, not including Celgalad."

"Where is he?"

"Captaining the walls, brother." Aeglos, Boromir, Oin and Dwain strode up beside the elves.

"You wanted battle, my dwarven friends." Feanar stated softly. "You'll get a chance. Boromir, keep your horn at ready. I've got a plan." The elf drew his black blade. The gates shattered.

AN: Well, I almost didnt go back to this story. Yet the idea started buzzing again, which makes me think I had a writers block for this story alone... ah well. Please Review and tell me what you think of it. hides behind computer


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